


Some And Now None Of You

by mamalovesherbagels



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: angsty, loooooonging, no happy ending fair warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:54:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24625825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamalovesherbagels/pseuds/mamalovesherbagels
Summary: Eddie and Chris go back to El Paso. It hurts just as much as Buck anticipated.
Relationships: Evan “Buck” Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	Some And Now None Of You

Buck can’t stop reviewing every second of his relationship, sorry, his _friendship_ , Eddie. “You don’t know what you have until it’s gone,” is a cliche phrase, but nothing fits the moment more.

“You know when we first met, I hated him,” he tells Maddie.

“Are you sure it was hate, Evan?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow inquisitively, but the rest of her face is soft. Not with pity, per say, but empathy. That big sister brand of it that says even though you are the absolute bane of my existence sometimes, I would take this bullet for you if I could.

So yeah, maybe he’s learning new things about himself after Maddie had already figured them out. But whatever, she’s practically his mom; she’s always been able to read him like a book.

“I’m really going to miss Christopher,” he says next, because at least that sentiment is 100% heterosexual and uncomplicated.

“I know you will, he’s kind of like your son,” she replies, hand subconsciously drifting down to her stomach. 

She’s pregnant, he knows this, even if she hasn’t told him yet. Chimney seems both overjoyed and even more of a ball of nerves than usual, Maddie has this newfound calm about her, and she’s always touching her stomach. It makes him happy and sad all at the same time. She’s becoming a mother at the same time he’s losing his kid who isn’t actually his kid but he’s come to love as his own.

“You can’t just take him away,” Buck had cried at Eddie, clutching his chest as if his heart would fucking fall out if he didn’t hold it in.

“Plane tickets exist, Buck,” he whispers, staring at the floor because God forbid he openly display an emotion other than happiness or anger.

He should have known. Should have trampled the hope that is ever present in his chest these days, these _months_ , that’s been there ever since Shannon died. The street fighting, the telling him to suck it up after he lost his job with the LAFD due to injury, those all should have been signs that Eddie wasn’t ready for the emotional work of self discovery.

He knows, he _knows_ that the feelings aren’t unrequited, at least not fully. Still, it doesn’t make a difference.

“You loved me once,” he tells Eddie eventually, because he’s nothing if not bold, “maybe you still do, but if you did, I don’t understand how you’d be doing this.”

“What do you want from me, Buck?”

“An acknowledgement.”

It never comes. He watches the moving truck pull away, puts on a brave face to wave goodbye at Chris, and then falls to his knees.

“Oh, honey,” Hen sighs, sitting down beside him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, “I can’t believe it.”

“I _can_ ,” he gasps desperately, “that’s the thing, I saw this coming and I still never prepared myself for it.”

“Love is never wasted,” Bobby says quietly, staring off into the direction the truck had driven off in, “it’s never wasted, Buck.”

Yeah, well it sure feels like his was.

He shares a bottle of wine with Chimney that night (pretending not to notice that Maddie is having sparkling cider), the three of them sitting cross legged on Maddie’s rug.

“He might come back,” Chimney shrugs.

“I doubt it,” he whispers, tears stinging his eyes for what feels like the fiftieth time that day.

“You never know.”

“Yeah, you never know,” he says halfheartedly.

“You’ve got us. Always,” Maddie offers, nudging her shoulder gets us.

That’s not nothing, he knows, and he’s grateful for it. Beyond grateful, really. Somehow, it still doesn’t feel like enough.


End file.
